


#Selfie

by Vexicle



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 01:44:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13514151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vexicle/pseuds/Vexicle





	#Selfie

Francis stares wide-eyed at his phone screen, hand over his mouth and he really wants to _scream_.

His phone chimes again and he's biting down into his hand, as the other limb wanders to his crotch and presses down. He whimpers, the bulge in his pants making him all too uncomfortable, but he tightens his grip around it in an effort to hold off his arousal. _Not now,_ Francis begs silently, though who he's praying to he's not sure. His glazed eyes skim over the text.

 **Takkun:** That was an accident im so sorry???? How do you delete it omg

Francis allows himself to be selfish, just this once, as his uncooperative thumbs press clumsily at the buttons.

**Falala:** Can't. Lol.

He prays that the black-haired boy doesn't notice that he took nearly a full minute to get that short text sent out.

 **Takkun:** Ugh okay. Sorry again  
**Takkun:** Frakkun, if you're feeling tired, go to sleep. Okay? :)

Francis resists the urge to tell Taro that he has nothing to be sorry for, that he most certainly won't be going to sleep tonight, but right now he's feeling far too grateful for… well, everything really. He texts Taro goodnight and collapses back on his bed, letting out a whimper as he finally gives in to his desires, his hand snaking beneath the fabric of his pyjamas and pulling them down, along with his briefs.

Francis whispers a quiet apology into the quiet darkness of his room. He feels so guilty, so shameful, so _filthy_ , but that doesn't stop him from turning the wifi off his phone to make it seem like he really is offline. He blushes at what he's about to do, and after debating with his conscience for a short while his hormones win. Francis holds his breath as he brings up the picture that Taro has accidentally sent of himself minutes prior.

Francis feels like such a perv, but he can't help the way his heart thunders faster at seeing the black-haired boy splayed on his sheets, shirt slightly unbuttoned and hair all mussed up from bed. His eyes roam over the other boy’s exquisite skin, and Francis pants a little as his line of vision traces down the taut, pale muscles of Taro’s chest. Unfortunately, the photo cuts off there, but Francis has seen enough to make him rather aroused. Taro looks almost _sexy_ , with his half lidded eyes, and subconsciously the brunet lets out a moan, gasping as he wraps his hand around his hardening cock. He whimpers. Crap, Taro wouldn't like this. He can't think of how he'll be able to face him tomorrow. He also doesn't care.

Francis swirls his thumb against his tip as he tosses the phone to the side, stuffing his fist in his mouth to avoid waking up his entire family. He squeezes his eyes shut, moaning softly as he gingerly traces his slit, rubbing it before pumping his length, gasping and bucking into his hand. He whines as his fingers slip all over his sensitive length, making it slicker with precome and teasing himself with the lightest of touches. Francis imagines it’s Taro doing this to him, his voice murmuring sensually in his ear and Francis has to bite down on his knuckles to keep from making too much noise.

Francis is sure the real deal would stammer and blush, but he stubbornly pushes that thought away as he imagines undressing the smaller boy, kissing his nipples, his chest, making him moan as their tongues meet, wet and sloppy and _perfect_ \- and then Francis wails into his mouth as his breathing grows ragged and harsh. The brunet gasps and drools around his fist, a long drawn out whine being dragged from his entire being as he squeezes his achingly hard cock, tugging his hand up and down. Francis shivers at the intensity of his ministrations, whimpering Taro’s name and feeling his entire body burn up as he drags his fingers along his length.

Francis pumps his twitching cock harder, moaning as he squeezes it roughly, fondling the sensitive head of the erect organ. He grits his teeth and _wails_ as he massages the ridges along the underside of his length, more sticky white liquid leaking from his tip, his entire body jerking on the bed, thighs twitching and trying to snap closed around his hand. Francis’s chest heaves and then Taro is there again, murmuring words of comfort to calm him, and Francis _swears_ he can actually feel it when he imagines Taro’s lithe fingers ghosting over his back.

Francis pretends the other boy is smiling down at him as he grips Francis’s needy erection, picturing his smaller hands there instead of his own, whimpering as he spreads his legs further. Once again, he drags his fingers along the wrinkled bands, every one of Taro’s little touches trailing sparks up his spine, shutting his brain down and driving him absolutely _mad_ with pleasure.

“Fuck,” he breathes out shakily. Francis can feel himself _oozing_ more and more from his tip, shutting his eyes again and moaning without any ounce of shame, begging mindlessly, “Taro, Taro, please let me come, _please_!” Tears are in his eyes and pure sensation ripples through his body as Taro continues to gently rub his digits against the sensitive head of his cock, swiping his fingers along the slit to collect the beading precome. Francis clamps his jaws shut around his fist, gasping and wheezing, “Please,” hips bucking uncontrollably into his grasp.

Taro stops and trails his hands along his waist, stilling Francis’s motions but making him whine in frustration, but he still doesn't dare to open his eyes, in fear of dispelling the illusion. Taro traces his lips with his fingers, delicate and gentle, and Francis just wants to _kiss_ him for real, to hug him and never let him go but right now - he thrusts into his hand and gasps - he's got a little problem that needs to be taken care of. He can feel the pressure building, his stomach contracting, he's so close, just _please_ -

 _Not yet,_ Taro says, still so calm and reassuring, and Francis dares to crack his eyes open a little. He feels so flustered and warm, sweat beading at his forehead and messing up his brown locks. Francis whines around his fist, and then he feels Taro whispering against his ear, _Finger yourself?_ His hands inch down lower. _For me? Francis?_

Francis’s green eyes snap open in shock and he blushes wildly, but is oh, so weak for the other boy’s sweet whispers and continued caresses. He obediently changes position, so he's no longer lying on his side and is instead propping his pert ass up in the air with the aid of a pillow. He flushes when he feels Taro’s warmth pressing against his back.

The black-haired boy isn't wearing a damn shirt at all and Francis _moans_ into his bedsheets. He's all too aware (even if this is merely a figment of his imagination) of the sweat trailing down Taro’s chest and abdomen, the taut muscles pressing against his warm back, and Francis struggles to regain himself as he is lost in the heat of the moment, arching his back and whimpering. Oh god, he just wants to feel him against his skin, his lips -

 _You can do it,_ Taro murmurs, and Francis lets out a high-pitched moan, whining and sobbing needily into his sheets as he fists his cock in one hand and reaches around with the other, cum-slick hand. The brunet lets out a gasp as he rubs around his rim in circles, dipping inside, and trembles as his tight entrance swallows his finger up. He thrusts in and out slowly, ass flexing around his finger in a way he's shamefully familiar with, and Francis whines as Taro mutters reassurances in his ear, rubbing the tip of his cock and making him arch wildly off the bed.

Francis lets out a heavy breath as his anal passage finally loosens enough to greedily draw his finger in, and he bites his lip as he adds a second finger, pretending it's Taro’s cock stretching him open, replacing the cold, hard sensations with the soft, warm texture of a real cock in his mind; the mere thought sends a shockwave of arousal sparking throughout his veins, making his neglected erection throb. Oh god, he knows he shouldn't be doing this, jacking off to his best friend, but the shame feels so good and real and his fingers are plunging in deeper and he forgets about that train of thought completely.

“Taro… Taro, fuck, _ah_ -” Francis whimpers as his hips stutter, thrusting his fingers in roughly until he hits his sweet spot and _keens_ , tears freely streaming down his face as he cries out, his voice completely wrecked and raw. He surrenders himself to his completely shameless fantasies, biting down hard on his bedsheets, drenching them with his drool. “F-fuck me, Taro,” Francis begs softly, squeezing his eyes shut and rocking his hips back and forth, making the bed creak with the sheer force of his actions.

Francis can't stop his cries, his moans, nor can he stop his body from trembling all over from the sensations. The brunet swears every time his slick fingers slide in and out of his entrance, making him tighten around them and _wail_ from the friction. His mind completely shatters every time his fingers thrust against his engorged prostate, writhing and gripping his cock tighter, pumping furiously as he bucks forward and backward wildly, sobbing at the utter lack of control.

Taro laughs, and Francis lets out a cry of sheer frustration beneath him. _Patience,_ Taro’s voice whispers, and Francis wants to scream loudly because _fuck_ he's been nothing but patient, being such an obedient boy, and he wants to come, god he wants to come, he's so _desperate, please..._

 _Come,_ Taro says, _Good boy._ He completely loses it at Taro’s low, sultry tone, and it's just at that moment that his fingers thrust against his sweet spot one last time and then Francis is wailing obscenities into the darkness of his room. Francis is certain the entire house can hear him scream as he sobs and wails and thrashes around on the bed; his cum shoots from his abused cock as he whines pitifully, his hand still working his cock, driving his pleasure to greater heights. He can't think, he can't breathe, all the air wrenched from his lungs as he screams his orgasm to the world.

Francis finally collapses, boneless, on his bed, giving his softening cock a few last strokes before sighing and opening his weary eyes. He spends a few moments groggily attempting to focus on his surroundings, and after a few minutes he clumsily reaches for his phone. He stops, cleans his hands awkwardly via licking them clean, and then picks his phone up. Francis smacks his lips, blushing as he shudders at his own taste.

He brings up the selfie that Taro accidentally sent, and Francis smiles guiltily even as his heart races again. Francis’s fingers briefly hover over the ‘delete’ button, twitching in his indecision, but then he bites his lip and saves the photo to his gallery. Blushing furiously, he forcibly turns the phone off and flings it to the side, rolling over in his bed, awkwardly pulling up his clothes as he does so.

Francis doesn't know how he'll face his… friend tomorrow.

.

They're at another club meeting and Taro is relieved, because he finally can get some solutions for his little problem here. Taro chooses to ask the black-haired girl next to him, fishing out his phone. “Zephyr,” he asks with a slightly embarrassed blush on his cheeks, “My phone camera seems to be stuck, so… can you help me?” Taro cringes as he remembers the photo he sent to Francis. He must have been traumatised with how distracted he was acting yesterday. 

Taro casts a glance over to said brunet, only to confirm that Francis is blushing even more than he is. Taro frowns, a little sadly, since he seems to be ignoring the hell out of him today and he can't quite figure out why. Zephyr taps his shoulder and Taro shakes himself out of his trance.

“Yeah, this,” Taro explains as he lets Zephyr take his phone and examine it. He casts another concerned look to Francis, who seems to be aware of his violet eyes drilling holes into his skull, since he just stubbornly stares at the (blank) page in his notebook. Not even writing, just… staring. Taro would have laughed if he didn't feel so concerned.

“Takkun,” she says, and Taro looks away from Francis again, a little reluctantly. Zephyr’s finger is hovering a little camera icon in the top corner. “You're in selfie mode right now,” Zephyr explains, “so just tap this and it should go back to normal camera mode.” She does it to demonstrate, and Taro nods, smiling sheepishly. 

She passes his phone back to him and Taro laughs in relief. Good, he was starting to think he messed it up beyond rescuing. “Sorry, you know how I am with tech,” he jokes. 

Zephyr grins back. “Sure, anytime, dude.” She nods at Francis, and Taro realises to his delight that Francis had actually been looking over at them. His lips are slightly pouted, a curious light in his green eyes. When he meets Taro’s gaze, however, he _squeaks_ and hurriedly buries his red face in his (still blank) notebook.

Taro just stares at Zephyr as if she has the solution to Francis’s strange behaviour as well, but she just shrugs apologetically. “I think you should talk to him,” she says, and nudges Taro with her elbow. Taro nods and walks over to the blushing brunet.

“Frakkun, hey,” he says gently, and Francis jumps as if electrocuted.

“H-hey, hey!” Francis stammers, still using his book to cover half of his face. Taro would have found it cute if he wasn't feeling embarrassed to death. _Obviously he's freaked out by my photo,_ Taro thinks, his heart stopping as he starts sweating. He chooses to play it cool, smiling awkwardly.

“I, uh… you've been avoiding me today. I'm really sorry about that picture, so -”

“Ah, it’s… it isn't… that,” Francis coughs, and frankly, Taro isn't used to seeing the other boy so _awkward_. Though this time he allows himself a small giggle. _He really is adorable._ Francis fidgets with the notebook in his hands, gaze darting everywhere but Taro’s eyes. “It's not you, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm sorry. I don't want to talk about it,” he says quickly just as Taro makes a move to ask him.

Taro blinks, but laughs and slaps his shoulders. “It's okay. Sometimes we all need our alone time, yeah?”

Francis begins _choking_ and Taro is so shocked that he forgets what to do, but luckily Francis doesn't seem to be dying, only staring bewilderedly at Taro and - “I, I gotta go! W-water!” Taro barely has time to react before the brunet escapes. His footsteps echo loudly through the hallways and amazingly no one stops the rampaging student.

Taro just stares at the rest of his band members, who all look equally shocked. Shrugging, he offers a sheepish smile.

Maybe Francis will tell him about it one day.


End file.
